We begin life wide open. Our young lives can be shaped into anything from ballerina to astronaut to dolphin trainer. But maturity narrows our options. Soon we’re forced to choose college majors and jobs and careers. Each choice funnels our energy into specific tracks and closes doors to countless others. By the time we reach 30, many of us have pretty much set the course for our life. We’re in this marriage, with these children, in this church.

This is where the idealism of childhood bumps against the specificity of maturity, and things can get messy. It’s easy to love the idea of marriage and parenting and church when your potential mate or child or community is a blank slate upon which you can project what you want. But when you see all too clearly the warts of your spouse and your son and your friends, it’s tempting to throw in the towel.

As reality routs romanticism, you may be tempted to quit—to get a divorce, bail on your kids, or stop going to church. But you should see this as a test. Mature people move past idealized notions of perfect marriages and families and churches and love the ones God has placed in their lives.

Karl Barth wrote that we can’t say, “I believe in the church” unless we actively participate in our own. Martin Luther said that we can’t say we love our neighbor if we don’t begin with our spouse. And the apostle John wrote that we don’t really “love each other” unless we “show the truth by our actions” (1 John 3:18).

Having experienced Jesus’ “real love” (v.16), you can love your spouse, your child, and your gathering of God’s people. Like you, they aren’t perfect. But God calls you to be a grown-up and love them anyway.